


The Shower

by SapphireMusings



Series: The Tease [1]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 18:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21450583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireMusings/pseuds/SapphireMusings
Summary: For some as yet unknown reason, Methos and Duncan end up spending the night at Joe’s house, sharing the bed in the spare bedroom. They’re only friends at this point—neither having openly broached the subject of deepening the friendship to something more. They both, MacLeod especially, are still reeling a bit from the impact the resurrected Horsemen had on their friendship.
Relationships: Duncan MacLeod/Methos (Highlander)
Series: The Tease [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1546357
Kudos: 10





	The Shower

**Author's Note:**

> Original Publication Date: August 1999.

MacLeod hopped out of the bed. Heading for the bathroom, he tossed over his shoulder, “I get the shower first.”

Staring at the retreating Scot from a tangle of bedclothes, Methos frowned. “You better save some hot water for me,” he warned.

“We could always share a shower, you know,” MacLeod shot back as he disappeared out the door, having no idea how well his flippant remark had been received.

Smirking, Methos stretched luxuriously as he contemplated the idea that had popped into his head at MacLeod’s carefree and unintentional challenge. Share a shower? With MacLeod? What a lovely idea. The oldest immortal slowly untangled himself from the bedsheets, giving MacLeod time to get comfortable in the shower before he descended upon him.

* * *

Feeling a draft of cool air, MacLeod turned quickly to see Methos climbing into the shower with him. He stared, stupefied. It didn’t even occur to him for several seconds that Methos was naked too. By that time, Methos had already switched places with him and had MacLeod turned so his backside faced the shower spray.

“I wash your back; you wash mine,” Methos offered, no hint of amusement, seduction or anything else in the reserved voice. Only a deepening tone that clued MacLeod in that Methos was up to something. That deep, flat tone sent a shiver through Duncan, a shiver not of unease but of pleasure and expectation.

Going along with whatever plan Methos was hatching, MacLeod leaned his forearms against the shower wall, his head resting on them, and enjoyed the sensation of Methos soaping his back. He didn’t protest when the hands strayed to his buttocks, lightly massaging them, before moving down his legs.

His breath did catch when he felt Methos press up against his back to reach around and soap Mac’s chest. The hands once more strayed downward but halted abruptly just above his groin and the beginnings of an obvious arousal.

Methos maneuvered them around so that Duncan was now facing the shower spray. MacLeod quickly rinsed the soap off then turned to Methos, an expectant gleam in his eyes. “My turn,” he murmured softly.

Smiling secretively, Methos easily capitulated, turning his back to MacLeod for easy access and gave himself over to those magnificent hands.

Methos wasn’t surprised when MacLeod followed the same path his own hands had followed on the Scot’s body minutes before. When the hands slid over his buttocks, Methos longed for a finger to stray in between in a more intimate touch, but he was to be denied. Either MacLeod was naïve about what was occurring here, which was highly doubtful in Methos’ opinion, or the Scot was playing with him, familiar with the game of anticipation.

Nearly purring with contentment, Methos almost melted to his knees when MacLeod’s body wrapped around his to soap Methos’ chest. His eyes popped open, comically surprised, when he swore he felt a slight pinch of his nipples. But when he looked down, MacLeod’s hands were nowhere near the aforementioned body parts and he wasn’t sure if he had imagined it or not.

Then he found himself standing under a shower of warm water, the soap washing away but the touch lingering.

Sensing a creeping doubt from the other man, Methos swiftly took matters in hand once more. Just before stepping from the shower, he lightly traced a finger down MacLeod’s nose and over the full lips. Cupping the Scot’s chin gently in one hand, he touched his lips to Duncan’s in a feather-light kiss that was unexpectedly intimate. Then Methos pulled away and, stepping from the shower, grabbed a towel to dry off.

MacLeod’s speculative gaze followed the oldest immortal’s hindquarters as a still nude Methos exited out the bathroom door and headed down the short hallway for the bedroom. A slow, delighted smile lit Duncan’s face like a sunrise popping over a frosted mountain peak.

Things were going to be okay between them, the Highlander suddenly knew. Things were going to be more than okay; they were going to be  
magnificent.

And that, Duncan would later realize, would grow to be one of the biggest understatements of his life.

Quickly toweling off, and foregoing clothing as well, he followed Methos to the bedroom.

**TBC in _The Bedroom_**


End file.
